


The Winner Is

by venomousdanger



Category: WWE
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomousdanger/pseuds/venomousdanger





	The Winner Is

-Flashback-  
Randy Orton had held the title of champ for years of his career but it never sounded as good as it had when Jon called him it. His body was sore as he went through the scripted rant until that deep graveled tone addressed him as Champ; not once but twice. There was no warning of it and he was caught off guard in the best of ways. The small touched that ghosted over the third generation wrestler’s shoulder said something more than a goodbye. Freezing the feeling made it last the remainder of RAW. His mind was stuck on the feeling that their segment left right up until he left the trainers room.

Much like the rest of the roster, the Shield was leaving the arena. Roman fought quietly with bags as Seth eagerly clung to the blond throwing him a bone of a quick peck to the lips. That brief lip contact set a fire in the Viper as a target centered on Colby.   
—————————————————————————————————-  
It had taken a little longer than everyone had hoped for but finally an Orton/Rollins feud had been created. After a few matches and a couple losses, no one was happier for the battle than Randy was. He understood that the company had to make the younger guys look like they were something but seeing the title encircled around the younger man’s waist relit the jealous fire. A glance was cast at Lilian while his teeth scrapped against his bottom lip.

The crowd could barely wait for the bell before a thunderous roar split the arena. Again, both of the opponents knew they couldn’t win over everyone. Some fans didn’t want another Age of Orton but others couldn’t stand the undeserved ego Seth had picked up. The interaction from the WWE universe made gave media meaning to their feud. Sure, there was the title and some ill feelings they pretended weren’t really as strong as they were but when the fans got into it, it made it so much easier to hate the two-toned one. His promise of attacking the blond patch followed through as long fingers tightened around the lighter strands. Everything that had happened. Having to drag the former hound ever since Punk had dropped him, seeing him with Dean, watching him with the WWE Heavyweight title. Every ounce of hatred came flooding back. Eye to eye, Randy growled softly. “You’re leaving here with nothing.” A tattooed arm felt around flesh and hair as it was wrapped around the architect’s neck to pull him into a backbreaker.

Minutes into the match, chests were heaving. Throwing Seth against the ropes, Randy bent forward as if he was setting up for a toss but was caught in a spinning sleeper slam. Hands immediately went to the back of his neck. A stinging pain shot down into his shoulders and the current champ stood up, prematurely victorious. Rolling out of the center of the ring only took half a turn. His hand found the ropes just as Retaliation hit the arena speakers. Climbing up the furthest set of ropes had angled Orton’s view up the ramp to see the Rollins get distracted by Dean Ambrose approaching in a Venom shirt under his famous leather jacket.

It only took a second for a smirk to show through the match endured damage. Being in a championship match didn’t offer too much time for Randy to admire the model wearing his merchandise but when the image was close enough to be clear- it was sealed to memory. Jon had a knee on the apron before Seth turned to walk into a RKO. The slight bounce of the ring was followed up by a three count and Randy leaned closer to the younger man’s ear. “With nothing.”

Kneeling, he was met with a hand jerking his arm up that wasn’t Chioda. Ever excitable, the lunatic had finished getting in the ring while the ref went to gather the title. The new champion took another glance at the mat with a shaking head and genuine smile. One hand was extended blindly towards Mike as his other arm snaked under the leather to pull the other to him. Small metal teeth bit into his tan due to the distance no longer between them. “You look great.” Always being one to push the limits of the PG era, he claimed the pale pout in a bruising kiss. Lips parted some in Jon’s own defiance to TV guidelines. A gum masked trip to the snack bar was tasted against his own mint coated tongue. At some point, the audience had faded and they were bought back by the actual winning arm raise and Seth’s huffing


End file.
